


A Cozy Hiding Place

by smoothkreminal



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gift Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 06:09:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4818038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoothkreminal/pseuds/smoothkreminal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A gift for Jackie, a.k.a, tevinterllama, on Tumblr! Her Alder Cadash is so much fun to write, and I love him so much. And, of course, her, for listening to me ramble over Skype. </p><p>Happy bday, Jackie!! Love you lots. <3</p><p>  <a>PS.,This is the little muffin I borrowed for the fic.</a></p>
    </blockquote>





	A Cozy Hiding Place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TevinterLlama](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=TevinterLlama).



> A gift for Jackie, a.k.a, tevinterllama, on Tumblr! Her Alder Cadash is so much fun to write, and I love him so much. And, of course, her, for listening to me ramble over Skype. 
> 
> Happy bday, Jackie!! Love you lots. <3
> 
> PS.,This is the little muffin I borrowed for the fic.

Andraste's Herald had, once again, gone missing.

Dorian wasn't rushing around in a frenzy like the Chantry sisters. They scurried about and ducked into shrubbery to try and find the dwarf. It wasn't the first time Alder had disappeared due to the stress of having both the Chantry's admiration and its ire, and it was very unlikely to be the last. 

It also didn't help that Cullen, Josephine, and Leliana insisted he have a word on every single move the Inquisition made in regards to their troops, and to answer diplomatically to individual favors asked of him by nobles. In hindsight, Dorian couldn't even blame him for wanting some time to himself. 

The only real surprise about Alder's disappearance was Adan, their reluctant resident healer, coming to him asking for a favor. Sure, the man's teeth were clenched close to breaking and he sounded as though it pained him to ask for it, but it was a favor nonetheless. Apparently, he'd asked Alder to retrieve some notes from the cabin of a previous mentor, but with the dwarf's disappearance, he hadn't received them.

Dorian had agreed, reluctant to do so himself. He figured it couldn't hurt to be in the good graces of the man who would be healing his wounds, and he kept telling himself that as he trudged through ankle-deep snow to the cabin Adan had mentioned. The regret only really began to sink in when he lost feeling in his toes and the shivering was so bad he had to clench his own teeth. 

He made a mental reminder to ask Cullen if a paid vacation was possible in the future. Surely, the Inquisition could spare enough coin for a week in Antiva, yes?

Adan had lied about how close the cabin was. _A few minute's hike my ass_ , Dorian thought bitterly once it finally came into sight. He had expected to be there and return within twenty minutes. Instead, the hike had been long enough that the soles of his boots were packed tight with snow.

Dorian slipped on the snow and reached out, grabbing onto a branch hanging just overhead. He quickly realized his mistake as snow plummeted into his hair and collar. He dug what he could out from his robes but shivered harder when cold rivulets of water slipped down his back. 

Cold, damp, and miserable, he yanked the cabin's door open and slammed it shut. Adan could wait for his damned notes until Dorian didn't feel like a walking icicle.

He brushed snow from his hair and yanked boots his boot off to beat the snow from his soles. It took a few moments for him to notice how warm the cabin actually was. The fireplace was lit, heat seeping out around the cabin and licking at his skin. Dorian paused. A fire lit in a cabin this isolated? He laughed to himself and yanked his boots back on.

"Herald?" Dorian called out quietly. When he received no answer, he tried again. "Serah Cadash? Have you decided to hole yourself up in here?"

At the mention of his name, Alder poked his head out from behind a corner. He sighed and visibly relaxed at the sight of the mage, walking out from behind the separating wall. His armor had been shed, and he was wearing an earthy green tunic and brown trousers that were tucked into his boots. His dark hair was pulled into a ponytail at the back of his neck. There was a slight frizz to his hair, as though he'd left it to dry on its own after it got wet.

"Oh, it's just you," Alder said, and he let out another heavy breath. "I thought you were one of the Chantry sister's."

"Me? A sister?" Dorian scoffed, feigning insult. He put a hand to his chest as though he'd been physically hurt. "Do you know how terrible I'd look in Chantry robes? Plus, the vow of celibacy is rather off-putting. I don't think I'm ready for that level of commitment."

Alder grinned at his joke; the corners of his eyes pinched together when he smiled. "You'd make the others faint with that mouth of yours, too. I doubt the congregation would appreciate your stories about Tevinter."

"I'll admit that the blood magic can be disturbing, but once you get past it they're quite a riot."

Alder laughed and then turned back towards his hiding spot. Dorian followed him wordlessly, scanning the room for the notes Adan had asked him for. Among what was scattered about the floor, he couldn't see anything that looked like apothecary notes. Where Alder had hidden himself away lay his armor and shield, and his axe was perched close by against the wall. Alder had one of his journals out and looked to be pressing leaves into its pages.

Dorian turned away from the dwarf busying himself with plants and paper to do a quick sweep of the room nearby. There, he found a writing desk with a good twenty pages scattered across its surface, held down by a heavy tome. (Herbology? Adan probably didn't need it.) He set the book aside and looked over the papers underneath. 

Dorian reviewed a few of the pages, reading about half of their contents before deciding that these were what he was looking for. He wasn't sure if every page here was what the alchemist wanted, but Adan could skim through them himself. If there were a few pages he hadn't asked for, then maybe something within them would be useful.

"Looking for something?" Alder asked, strolling into the room.

"Mm, and I found it." Dorian held up the stack of notes he was trying to organize. "Adan asked me to retrieve some notes for him after you disappeared. Something about healing potions."

"Oh." Alder looked sheepishly at the wall. "He asked that of me a while ago, but I completely forgot about them while I was trying to sneak away."

"Too preoccupied with trying to escape being smothered? I completely understand," Dorian said. He tapped the papers against the desk. "You know, the sisters' opinions of me might change if I were to, I don't know, tell them where you're hiding? 'The Somewhat-Helpful Tevinter Magister' is a much better title than 'The Evil Tevinter Magister.'"

Alder looked at him, shocked, mouth agape. "You wouldn't tell them where I am."

"I would, indeed. Throw a surprise party for you; I'd have it waiting for you when you finally crawled out from underneath Lady Montilyet's clipboard." Dorian paused, and a wicked grin quirked his mustache up at one side. "How close is it to your birthday? That would be the perfect excuse to get everyone out here."

It was Alder's turn to give him a wicked look. "Invite everyone out here, if you want. I can always lock you in and set off stink bombs!"

Dorian grimaced but he was laughing. "If you set off stink bombs here, the smell won't go away the next time you need it for a hiding place. I doubt you'd want to sit around here while it still smells like nug droppings, or whatever awful mess you come up with."

Alder considered the idea before deciding that Dorian was right. No stink bomb was worth losing his hiding place from the Chantry's overbearing charges. 

The mage rolled the notes up and tucked them into his robes to protect them from getting wet. He mumbled something about _hoping I have the right ones_ before turning back to Alder. 

"I'm afraid I'll have to cut our chat short. The urge to be a productive member of the Inquisition is calling me," he said, and headed towards the door. There were puddles where the snow he'd beaten from his boots had fallen. "It could be safe enough to poke that handsome face of yours out, by now. I doubt there are many more mothers wanting you to kiss their children outside in this cold."

Dorian grabbed the handle of the door, made like he was going to pull it open, and stopped. He turned back towards the dwarf.

"Varric's planning to set up a game of Wicked Grace tonight. Any chance you'll be there?" he asked.

"Possibly," Alder said. Dorian said nothing but his smile widened.

Dorian bade him farewell and pushed the door open to step out into the snow. He hissed when the freezing southern wind slammed into him. Alder shivered as it crept inside, but the fire dispelled it once the door was closed.

Alder stood in the middle of the room, still hung up on Dorian's parting words. "Handsome face of yours," more specifically. His neck turned hot at the notion that Dorian had been flirting with him. (It was possible he had been since he walked into the cabin, and simply that Alder hadn't noticed.)

He shook the idea from his head and returned to the journal he had abandoned, thinking, _That's ridiculous_.

Despite trying to convince himself that it was nothing more than a simple conversation, that he was just reading too much into it, a ruddy blush clung to his cheeks and neck.


End file.
